


it doesn't really feel like christmas at all

by DollyPart0n



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Fluff I guess??, Hurt/Comfort, i know it's not christmas i just want 2020 over with, set during the big sad, tw: croissants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26928544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DollyPart0n/pseuds/DollyPart0n
Summary: Tina and Newt take stock after a tough week investigating Grindelwald.
Relationships: Tina Goldstein/Newt Scamander
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sitting on this since a couple of christmases ago but given the state of 2020 I'm starting early this year. There'll likely be a follow up chapter or two so if you vibe with this one, stay tuned.
> 
> Have a lovely day!

Leaning over to reach for the taps, Tina caught her darkened eyes in the bathroom mirror and became acutely aware of how exhausted she was. Fatigue had caught up with her numerous times after arduous cases at MACUSA, however the usual satisfaction had instead been replaced by immeasurable grief, the combination of which made her bones feel heavy. Drawing a bath would help, she thought.

In the front room messy stacks of files and papers concerning Grindelwald adorned the floor, evidence of countless hours spent diligently poring over details. This desperate, yet so far futile, attempt to garner some insight into his whereabouts had taken its toll on them all, and was particularly lethal when combined with the sleepless nights of self-blame and worry for Queenie. Both her and Jacob begrudgingly shared this pastime. Newt had frequently resurfaced from his case to find the two in solemn discussion by the fire, talking in whispers each trying to convince the other that they weren’t at fault.

Overcome by grief yet determined for justice, Theseus was much the same. Slouched in the corner of the front room under a large window, the usually well-presented Auror was disheveled from a week of working and sleeping in the same threadbare armchair. In the rare moments when his mind did wander from the investigation he’d watch the people shuffle through the rain in the road below - no doubt hoping for Leta to appear.

Tina felt part sorry that such a miserable cast had suddenly descended on Newt’s tiny flat, and part glad that she wasn’t an ocean away. With her dear sister now missing the number of people she felt she could confide in had halved and Newt’s steady presence was a welcome comfort.

She eased herself gently into the steel tub, focusing on the sensation and briefly allowing the weight of the past few days to dissipate into the scalding water. The house was still quiet in the early morning hour, and as the water cooled around a dozing Tina, the sky outside slowly morphed from black to blue to the kind of murky dawn red that Newt would say sailors warned about.

Tina woke to the sound of knuckles on the wood of the bathroom door and was surprised to find the water lukewarm against her skin.

“Hi Tina, I heard you get up and I uh, made yo-us coffee”

“Morning Newt” she replied, smiling at Newt’s attempted nonchalance knowing fine well he didn’t enjoy coffee “I’ll be right out”

In spite of all there was to worry about, she took solace in whatever it was developing between them. Though neither would dare admit it in such a difficult time, their quiet moments in the basement together had quickly become a necessary ritual. Each evening after tea they would climb down, the case providing fleeting respite from the world’s anguish.

Tina enjoyed the distraction of tending to the creatures and found the wide-open expanses a relief as the flat had become rather poky housing the four of them, but most of all she relished the conversation. They’d unraveled and embraced so much of the emotional turmoil of recent events whilst perched on the ladder, talking at length in ways Tina hadn’t expected to come so naturally. She’d learned how deeply Newt cared for his best friend and his brother, his simmering anger with Grindelwald, how he blamed himself for not taking up a position at the Ministry. But most astoundingly to her, there were glimpses of a feeling she hadn’t dared hope could be reciprocated.

Tina drained the bath, pulling on the well-worn slacks and dress shirt that Newt had set out for her last night. As she smoothed out the beige linen, a brief intoxicating smell of earth and nutmeg enveloped her like a warm breeze. A small smile played at her lips, just threatening to reach her eyes, these were unmistakably _his_ clothes.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt or-or anything, I just thought if the coffee was going cold then perhaps so was the bathwater” Newt remarked as Tina entered the narrow kitchen, not looking up from where he was spooning sugar into his tea. The scarlet-tinged light of a London morning had long-since subsided, instead replaced by a blanket of burly clouds promising a day of misty December rain.

“No problem honest, it was high time I got out anyway. Croissant?” Separation anxiety is agonising enough without knowing the woman you love is under the control of the wizarding world’s most powerful dark wizard, and Jacob had taken to baking to help himself cope. While no one wished the situation to be prolonged, they certainly weren’t ungrateful for the masses of baked goods.

“That would be wonderful. Sleep well?” Newt turned to smile at Tina as she moved to settle in a chair, two pastries and plates following her to the table. He’d no sooner pushed the mass of bed-matted curls out of his eyes when his breath caught in his throat. It hadn’t occurred to him that Tina would eventually take up the offer of clean clothes, always insisting, almost irritatingly, that she could make do with what little she had. He admired the way the belt accentuated her narrow hips, how her dark hair juxtaposed the pale skin exposed by the unfastened top buttons and perhaps most endearingly, the way Tina had cuffed the hems so the trousers hung just above her ankles. She was wearing his clothes. A woman _that_ wonderful in _his_ clothes.

“Is everything alright?” Newt was pulled from the haze of pride and a yet-unidentified feeling to find a quizzical eyebrow raised over the top of Tina’s coffee mug.

“Yes, yes perfect, just glad you finally took up my offer” Newt swallowed, thankfully inaudible over the scrape of chair legs as he sat down. To say he was glad, he thought, was so much of an understatement that it felt like a lie. He quickly changed the subject.

“I was thinking that maybe today I’d decorate the flat for Christmas considering its no more than a week away. I think there’s some muggle decorations in the loft” Tina set her mug down to reply but before she could Newt interjected sadly.

“I know Hanukkah has already finished” Tina was touched that it had even occurred to him.

“Oh it’s no matter, it’s usually just me and Queenie anyway and you know” she let her voice trail off not wanting to taint yet another one of their exchanges with misery “though I would love to help decorate th-“

All of a sudden the heat of Newt’s mug-warmed hand was resting on top of hers, well and truly derailing her train of thought.

“You don’t have to Tina, I doubt Thes and Jacob will be in a particularly festive mood either”

“No no I’d like to” she protested, gesturing in the direction of the dingy living room “and besides, Mr Scamander, I suspect Queenie would say this place needed a woman’s touch”

Newt let out a shaky laugh, not relinquishing her hand as he continued with a squeeze, “I’d be inclined to agree”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang start decorating Newt's dingy flat with some festive cheer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the single best day of the year when you get to decorate for the holidays. And since this was pre-1979 they aren't even subjected to listening to Wonderful Christmastime - lucky them.
> 
> Leave any comments/suggestion/feedback/spelling corrections/hot takes below.
> 
> Have a lovely day!

By lunchtime the drizzle had given way to a fully-fledged downpour, and Jacob was in the hallway doing his best to manoeuvre out of a sodden raincoat without starting a flood. Newt’s flat was only a couple of streets from the greengrocer’s however during the short return journey the paper bag he’d been given had turned into mulch, leaving him juggling an armful of produce.

“It’s rainin’ cats and dogs out there” he called into the living room as he went to set the ingredients down in the kitchen.

Though no one was really in the mood for festivities, he did appreciate the effort Tina and Newt were going to with creating a distraction. Never one to dwell too long on situations that could not be helped, he was more than happy to contribute a gingerbread house - Christmas _was_ his favourite holiday after all.

Tina was carefully fixing sprigs of holly to a wreath, tongue between her lips in concentration as she deftly avoided the leaves’ sharp points. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Jacob appear in the doorway, slicking back his wet curls with both hands.

“You’re soaked through!” she exclaimed in a surprisingly motherly tone. “Sit by the fire or you’ll catch your death of cold. Did you at least find what you were after?”

Jacob didn’t protest, he took a heavy blanket from the chest and cocooned himself in the seat closest to the hearth. “Just about. I think the assistant is gettin’ sick of me though, I’m buyin’ them out of flour almost every day” Jacob replied, recalling the shopkeeper’s exasperated look upon seeing him for the third time this week.

“Well we’re very grateful for the constant supply” she smiled, before turning back to wrangling a stem of ivy.

Looking around the room he noticed Tina was alone. It wasn’t unusual for Newt to be elsewhere, no doubt overwhelmed by the visitors squatting in his front room, but Theseus had hardly moved from his post by the window since they arrived. “Where’s Theseus?”

“Down in the case” Tina replied.

-

The brothers were walking quietly through a part of the case Newt had planted with dense greenery. It was mainly for the benefit of his bowtruckles, but other creatures, particularly the mooncalves, were fond of the forest too. Though he’d rather not destroy their habitat, for festivity’s sake he was sure a single Christmas tree wouldn’t go amiss.

“What about this one?” Theseus asked with a note of growing annoyance in his voice, pointing out a stout symmetrical fir of about his height. They’d only been there a short while and already he’d seen at least four perfectly decent trees. As far as he was concerned it would die in a fortnight and in the meantime you’d barely see it beneath the decorations.

Newt stopped momentarily to look it up and down, “Too tall”

Theseus let out an exasperated sigh. He had a woodcutter’s axe in one hand, swinging it lazily in rhythm as he walked, the other was buried deep in his trouser pocket. He’d deliberately left his wand behind, hoping to recreate the emotional catharsis muggles seemed to get from hitting things. It’s not like he’d used it since Paris anyway.

“How are you?” Newt asked the question with no preamble and no expectation of an answer, not sure exactly how to ease into the topic. He’d been worried about Thes – well everyone had – but he didn’t know what, if anything, could be done to help.

“This one?” Theseus said motioning to a slightly smaller, narrower tree this time, averting his eyes.

Despite protests from a very indignant looking Pickett, Newt agreed, unbothered by his brother’s avoidance.

“Stand back then” Theseus cautioned, adjusting his grip on the axe before taking a hard swing at the trunk. After a few more it toppled and fell accompanied by an audible wince from the breast pocket of Newt’s coat.

He straightened up and brushed himself off, pine needles were yet another reason not to bother with a tree.

“I’m fine, grieving but fine” he blurted.

Taken aback by his own his own sudden honesty he quickly added, “Determined to find him more than anything. It won’t bring her back, but it will keep Jacob from this purgatory”

Newt nodded, not wanting to push him any further. “Well you’re always welcome down here – I know privacy is hard to come by upstairs”

“Thanks, Newt”

-

Tina had tidied all the paper and files neatly into a drawer, determined that for the afternoon at least they could forget the enormity of the situation. She’d been keeping busy decorating using various spells while the Scamanders were in the case, much to the dismay of the resident no-maj.

“You’re missin’ the point, half the fun is having the baubles fall off and break. It’s not the same if you just abracadabra alakazam it” complained Jacob as yet another ribbon of tinsel flew across the room before settling on the bookshelf. He was rifling through a crate of odds and ends a previous tenant had left behind while he dried off, hoping whoever that was had more baking equipment than one Newt Scamander.

“Ah-ha!” he said triumphantly producing an array of cookie cutters.

“I guess our gingerbread house is more a gingerbread barn, huh?” Tina quipped noticing that for the one useful person-shaped one, there were at least six that resembled farm animals.

“Still counts, righ-“ Jacob was interrupted by scratching against the lid of Newt's case followed by it being pushed ajar by foliage.

A muffled voice floated up from below “Jacob! Tina! Could, uh, could one of you help pull?”

“Of course, hold on a second” Tina threw open the lid fully and peered in, stifling a laugh at the absurdity of the scene. The two brothers were blinking up at her, crowded onto one rung as they balanced a tree precariously between them.

Jacob was still wrapped in the blanket when he knelt down beside her see what the commotion was and didn’t do them the courtesy of stifling _his_ laughter. “Oh man”

“So much for being easier than going to the market” Theseus said, a smile playing at his lips as he glared across at Newt who laughed sheepishly.

Squeezing it through the opening of the case, Jacob and Tina hauled the tree into the living room, sending a shower of needles cascading down the ladder. Most of these appeared to have attached themselves to Newt who upon climbing out of the case looked as if he were pox ridden.

Shaking them out of his hair and the knit of his jumper, Newt took in the room slack jawed. It was now barely recognisable as the dull space he’d grown accustomed to. The rain had eased to a steady patter on the windowpane, but it was still a dark afternoon even by London standards. The fire was casting a soft dancing glow over the wreaths and bows adorning the wood panel walls, and pinecone ornaments complete with holly and ivy sat on the mantlepiece below towering candles. The bookshelf, which was usually reserved strictly for pragmatic journals and field research, had glistening silver tinsel winding along each shelf which to no one’s surprise already had piqued Pickett’s interest.

In the centre of the room stood Tina, absent-mindedly twirling a strand of hair around her finger, watching with concern as Theseus and Jacob rearranged furniture to make space for the tree – even with the heavy atmosphere he had never known it to feel so much like a home.

He didn’t know how to say that, or if he even should given Queenie’s painful absence, instead settling on polite gratitude.

“Tina this is- this really is wonderful. Thank you”

Tina returned a smile and stepped toward Newt noticing an errant pine needle lodged askew in his fringe. She reached up with a shaky hand and pulled it out to show him.

”You uh, you’ve missed one”

Newt, distracted by Pickett swinging on a loose end of tinsel, hadn’t noticed the proximity and jumped slightly at the touch. “Oh! Thank you, uh, so I did” he said hurriedly before steadying himself with a breath.

“I’m glad you like it, I thought perhaps it may’ve been too much” she said with a relieved laugh.

“Like it? It’s-it’s perfect”

She blushed, turning the needle in her hands awkwardly. “I guess all we need now are stockings”

“Hogwarts taught a spell for that – admittedly not their most useful” he deadpanned, producing a wand from his back pocket before muttering something. Above the fire appeared a large red sock with “Tina” emblazoned on the front in white felt letters, followed by three more, one for each of them.

“No fair - my grandmother used to spend weeks knitting ours, you wizards are lazy” Jacob joked from where he was propping up the tree.

“It’s that or one of Newt’s old socks” Theseus retorted under his breath, causing both Jacob and Tina to let out a laugh, though the latter was far beyond the intended earshot.

“I _heard_ that” Newt shot back, a note of amusement in his voice. The room fell into a comfortable silence save for the sound of the tree being manoeuvred.

Tina had turned to watch the fire, a far away look on her face Newt had learned to recognise. He hesitated as he returned the wand to his pocket, his mind wandering the same well-trodden path.

He had cycled through the grief and the fear and the anger so often as of late it felt like all he ever did. It happened every time Queenie sauntered across his conscious, and he could barely hear Leta's name anymore without being overcome by it. Even so, he was certain Jacob would marry his fiancé one day and that Tina would spend the holidays with her sister again, he had no choice but to wholeheartedly believe that. Grindelwald’s regime had imparted so much misery and harm on those he cared for, and the wizarding world as a whole, that it was beginning to test his pacifist resolve. After all, Theseus had always said that in times of tyranny standing by made you complicit.

There was no war to be fought this afternoon though, and he didn’t see the harm in a dash of hope. Besides, including Queenie in their celebrations would mean the world to Jacob, it really was the least they could do. He raised his wand but let it drop slowly as he noticed the mantlepiece.

Tina tried to imitate the spell Newt had used with mixed success. A moth-eaten stocking marked simply with a “Q” materialised over the fire, and although it had a rather large hole in the toe, it was there among the rest of her family where it rightfully belonged.

She'd beaten him to it.


End file.
